


Just Sometimes...

by AuntieEm73



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms
Genre: Anal Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, Hand Jobs, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Orgasm Denial, Sexual Frustration, Teasing, Thranduil can be a real dick, Thranduil only does what he does because he's a big softie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-12 06:21:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29005989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuntieEm73/pseuds/AuntieEm73
Summary: Lúthon has caught the king's attention, but is it the attention he wants? Is Lúthon capable of subduing Thranduil's frustrations?
Relationships: Thranduil (Tolkien)/Original Character(s)
Kudos: 7





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A little thing I wrote for my friend, DarkKiwi's birthday!

Chapter 1

“Get out of my sight…” a deep and harsh voice bellowed to the elleth, who beheld the king with fright in her eyes.

“… and take that infernal dress with you,” he continued in frustration, as the young elf reached for what was left of her dress, after her king had decided to tear it so shreds. Her shaking hands clutched the remains of the piece of clothing, trying to cover her naked form in any way she felt she could. She rushed towards the entrance of the royal chambers, leaving the wooden door slightly ajar, much to the king’s annoyance. Long strides brought him to where the elf had been seen exiting. He stood in front of his chambers threateningly, watching the elleth sprinting away from him fast, as her half naked rear shook with the movements she made.

The guards that stood by his door knew better than to say anything, let alone even look at him. The king did as he pleased and it was not up to them to pass judgement. King Thranduil’s mind weighed heavily on him in the past years, centuries even. He was cold, distant, disagreeable. All in his kingdom agreed to that, yet on occasion, someone would feel an attraction towards the king, but only because he was just that… _the king_.

The king did not have an easy life and he found that if he upheld his abominable demeanour, he would live long enough for him to forget his past, as well as present. Keeping people at a comfortable distance, aided in his mission to hopefully find peace one day. There were only a few who were able to approach him confidently, cared for him, as they knew better. His son Legolas was one of them. Thranduil was hard on him as well, but because he knew his father was a different person deep down, he had accepted his seemingly barbaric way of doing things… _just sometimes…_

The guards stared in front of them, their expressions stoic. They dared not move. There was nothing to how they behaved, that should set off their king against them. The king, however, was in a foul mood and someone had to pay for it. As Thranduil turned to re-enter his chambers, he briefly locked his gaze with one of the guards.

“And what are you looking at?” he asked threateningly, making the guard wonder if he should even respond to the question.

“You are fired!” Thranduil roared. And with that statement, he slammed the heavy wooden door shut behind him.

The guard that had just been sacked, looked at the other guard, who didn’t know how to respond. Both knew the king hadn’t been fair, but what could they do?

*** 

The next evening almost seemed to follow the same pattern as the night before and before long, another elleth ran from his chambers. Where some of his female visitors had said nothing in the past and just moved away from the king hurriedly, others were sobbing loudly, unsure where they had gone wrong.

The new guard that had replaced the one that was fired a day prior, said nothing. His face was not only stoic, but he looked like he couldn’t care less. His expression was completely indifferent, which did not go unnoticed by the king as he turned towards his chambers once more.

“And what is _your_ name,” the king bellowed in disdain.

“Lúthon, my Lord,” the guard spoke, without looking at his king. His eyelashes batted in a relaxed way. He did not seem perturbed by his king who shouted murder, whenever it suited him. This by no means meant that he would not guard the king with his life if needed. He was a most dedicated guard, but he refused to be bullied by King Thranduil, the ruler of the Woodland Realm.

The king snorted.

“Indeed,” before entering his chamber again, closing the wooden entrance with a loud thud.

Lúthon remained stoic, even with the king out of sight. The other guard simply regarded him in awe.

“How did you do that?” he wondered in sincerity.

“Do what?” Lúthon asked, keeping his eyes in front of him. The other guard shook his head. He had seen many guards be replaced almost daily and always wondered when he was going to be next. Lúthon had just broken that repetitive pattern for the first time in a long while.

Lúthon didn’t give it much thought. He was focusing on something else and that was to be away with the tingle between his legs. He wasn’t quite sure whether he needed to be afraid, or something else.

*** 

The elves in the kingdom were surprised to see the king about in the days that followed. Whispers could be heard in the corners of the chambers and rooms that Thranduil visited. They felt ill at ease with the king watching their every move, worried who would fall victim to the king’s next wrath outburst. 

The king, however, did not speak to anyone, he merely observed. His face was as stern as ever though and it scared his subjects. 

As he entered the training grounds, his eyes fell on the new guard that had been at his chambers the night before. He did not know many of his subjects personally, but he recognised Lúthon from their very brief encounter. He stood out from the other ellons, because of his long and shiny waist long black locks. He had tightly braided thin rows of his hair on the sides of his head, making whatever was not braided on top, flow elegantly by the breeze that rolled onto the palace grounds. The hairdo made him look different, fierce, determined.

He observed Lúthon’s interaction with the others as all laughed, while they stood around him. The guard seemed to be popular, as he joined the others, laughing amicably. His shapely lips parted, revealing beautifully strong teeth. His eyebrows were fine, but somehow dominating and beneath them, his dark blue eyes sparkled. His shoulders weren’t overly muscular, but certainly fit, as was his narrow waist. 

Thranduil caught himself staring. Before anyone could notice, he grunted loudly and turned to remove himself from the training grounds. He was irritated, but wasn’t entirely certain because of what. Just as Thranduil turned, Lúthon caught a glimpse of the king and watched him leave, his broad back almost beckoning him to follow, while his silver blond hair yearned to be sniffed… or pulled.

*** 

Evening fell again. Lúthon, and the other guard on duty, were pleased that the king had decided against having another female companion in his chambers. At least that would give them some peace and quiet… they hoped. 

The door opened and Thranduil appeared. He stared Lúthon up and down and spoke.

“ _You_ … follow me!”

It wasn’t a kind request, but it was not something Lúthon could refuse. As he entered the king’s private domain, he started to wonder why he was there. Thranduil approached him, as he walked from the sleeping area, holding up two tunics.

“Gold or black?” he insisted on getting a response from the guard. Lúthon did not immediately respond, as he tried to assess if it was a trick question.

“I have an important meeting tomorrow and I need to be intimidating,” Thranduil explained. Lúthon chuckled inside. _You don’t need clothing to be intimidating_ , he thought.

“Black,” Lúthon spoke in determination. Thranduil looked at him, as if he was playing with him.

“I will choose gold… nothing speaks _king_ more than gold,” Thranduil defied the opinion Lúthon had just given him. Lúthon felt annoyed as to why the king had asked him in the first place. Thranduil discarded the black tunic on one of the chairs close to him and turned his back towards the guard.

“You may leave now,” Thranduil ordered.

“My Lord…” Lúthon spoke softly, awaiting the king’s reaction, before proceeding. Thranduil looked up, curious as to what the guard had to say.

“… if you don’t mind me asking… why did you need my opinion to make a decision on which tunic to wear, if you had already decided that my views were not what you were seeking?” 

“I don’t need your opinion, I was just curious what you had to say,” Thranduil huffed, as though he cared not.

“The black brings out the fire in your eyes… if it’s intimidating you seek, the black tunic will do just that,” Lúthon conveyed his preference, without having been asked why he thought the black tunic would be better. Thranduil looked up in surprise.

“We cannot always have what we desire,” his voice full of arrogance, as he turned away from Lúthon again. Lúthon considered it his cue to exit the king’s private domain. He was confused as to what had just happened.

*** 

Lúthon walked the hallways in the direction of his personal chambers. He noticed two elleths talking to one another in hushed whispers, alternated by giggling.

“He couldn’t make _it_ work,” one spoke, the other sniggered inelegantly.

“Same with me,” the second elleth whispered.

“He tried to force me, but I truly could not see what he had intended to do to me with a flaccid manhood,” she rolled her eyes.

“Have you spoken to some of the others?” the first elleth asked.

“Apparently they experienced the same… pity… supposedly he’s quite impressive… if he can get it to work well,” the second one laughed slightly louder than before.

Lúthon cleared his throat, trying to make the two ladies look up.

“It is quite rude to speak of our king like that… wouldn’t you agree?” Lúthon spoke angrily.

The two elleths looked at one another with flushed cheeks. That was quite embarrassing. 

“Yes, it is true, our king may not have been himself in the past while, but he does not deserve to be spoken of like that… he is still just and fair and deserves respect. I would appreciate it if you behave more courteously. I will not speak of this to the king, but consider yourselves warned,” Lúthon frowned. The two elves knew quite well who was addressing them and recognised Lúthon as one of the king’s guards.

Suddenly one of the ladies stood.

“We apologise. We merely acknowledged how the king has seemed troubled as of late,” the first elf said.

“… as of late… or in the past centuries…” the second elf muttered under her breath, which deserved a scolding look from Lúthon.

“You will do well to keep your thoughts to yourself. If the king is troubled, then so be it. His abilities as king are undiminished,” Lúthon raised his voice, before continuing his journey to his chambers.

*** 

The next morning, Lúthon assumed his duties by standing outside of the royal chambers, before the king woke.

Suddenly a roar came from inside the king’s domain.

“Lúthon!”

Lúthon swallowed and looked at the other guard opposite of him, who was as startled as he was. 

“You had better go see what he wants,” his colleague said calmly.

Lúthon slowly entered and closed the heavy door behind him, as he proceeded through the ante-chamber. He did not see the king at first, until he heard the king speak again.

“Lúthon… in here,” he heard from the bed chamber.

As he approached, he noticed Thranduil sitting on the side of the bed wearing a burgundy robe. As he stood, the robe hid nothing of what was beneath the dark velvet fabric.

“Come here… you must help me!” the king ordered.

Lúthon swallowed hard again.

“Help you… how?” he spoke softly, although he had a pretty good idea what the king was referring to and a slight tingle started to emerge from his own depths.

“Come closer… I don’t bite… not yet anyway,” Thranduil smirked.

As Lúthon approached, Thranduil roughly grabbed his hand and guided it towards his rock hard shaft. 

“Relieve me!” came another order.

Lúthon’s breathing became laboured, as he glanced at the impressive length of the king’s erection in his hand. The elleths he had spoken to, the day before, had been completely mistaken, there was absolutely nothing wrong with the king’s libido.

Slowly he moved the skin on the royal penis up and down, instantly eliciting moans, as Thranduil closed his eyes and pushed his head back.

“Faster!” he again commanded. Lúthon complied dutifully, as he regarded Thranduil’s beautiful facial features. He longed to kiss his shapely lips, but he was not in a position to do anything of the kind.

Lúthon increased the pace with which he massaged the shaft. All signs that indicated Thranduil was close to climaxing, became evident. 

Suddenly Lúthon released his grip on the king’s throbbing length and backed away. Thranduil gave him a death stare, as if to tell him what on Middle-Earth he thought he was doing.

Lúthon turned and before exiting the king’s chambers he spoke.

“We cannot always have what we desire!”

And with that, Lúthon was gone.

***


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Thranduil became impossible after the incident with Lúthon. Lúthon had half expected to be fired from his position as royal guard, but there was nothing that led him to believe that he was going to be released from his current position. Lúthon was surprised, but in a way curious, wondering why ruthless king Thranduil had not decided to deal with him. Impure thoughts entered his mind, where Thranduil elevated them both to incredible heights. As he snapped back to reality, he glanced at his groin, only to find an erection that spoke volumes.

Lúthon was seriously mistaken, if there was not a lustful attraction between the both of them. The thought alone made him smile.

*** 

Thranduil again wandered around the palace, observing once more. He ventured towards the indoor training chambers, where he knew his royal guards were engaging in battle training with swords and bows and arrows. He had no trouble spotting Lúthon among the guards that were present and watched him closely, much to the annoyance of the elves present. From time to time, Lúthon’s and Thranduil’s glances met and both smirked. Neither had forgotten what had transpired between them recently. If Lúthon didn’t know any better, he was sure that the king was toying with him. Thranduil knew damn well what he wanted and had his ways of getting what he coveted. Lúthon watched Thranduil lean against one of the large stone pillars casually, his arms crossed, as he kept staring. Lúthon pretended to be unperturbed by his presence, but failed miserably, much to the king’s amusement. When the training session ended, Thranduil swiftly moved away, making Lúthon wonder where he was going. He was too curious of what his king had planned for the remainder of the day, but had no reasons to approach him, until it was time for him to resume his duties as royal guard, ensuring Thranduil’s safety.

*** 

Lúthon silently made his way to the kitchens, hoping he would be able to find something that would silence his hunger craving. It was already late and the cooks had left the kitchens spotless, save for some bowls of fruit. Lúthon had no interest in fruit, he wanted to indulge in something sinful.

He opened the door to the large pantry, where the lights were dim. He scanned the room and found a basket of elderberry pastries, that simply beckoned him to dig into. He took one into his hand and just as he was about to take a bite, someone pushed against him from behind, roughly pinning him against the pillar close by. The pastry he was holding, fell to the floor and Lúthon gasped loudly.

“Thought you could toy with me, did you?” came a deep husky voice, as wandering hands roughly undid the bindings on his leggings, before they were pushed down past his hips unceremoniously. One hand circled around him and before Lúthon realised, strong slender fingers had curled around his already throbbing flesh.

“Well now… what’s this?” the voice came again, as the fingers started to massage him.

Lúthon sensed the person behind him use his other hand to undo some of his own clothing, though he never released his first hand from around his erection.

“I think I have to teach you a lesson,” the voice said, which Lúthon had recognised as his king’s immediately. Lúthon moaned, letting Thranduil know that he was as excited as his king was. 

Thranduil glanced around and noticed a tub of soft butter on one of the shelves. He dipped his long fingers into the yellow substance and brought it to Lúthon’s twitching entrance. Lúthon, in response, pushed his rear to meet Thranduil’s movements, as if to tell him what it was that he wanted. He felt the king’s hardness against his puckered hole, but Thranduil stopped, save for his grip on Lúthon’s shaft. 

“What is it you desire?” Thranduil spoke in a raspy voice. Lúthon considered the question for a brief moment and boldly responded.

“You!”

Suddenly Thranduil pushed his hips forward slowly, invading the slightly tensed sphincter, before easing himself inside fully. Lúthon moaned with both pain and pleasure. He had never experienced anything like it, and even though it was sensitive, he was not disappointed. 

He felt Thranduil move back, before plunging back into him again. With every thrust, it became easier for him to move inside of Lúthon. The king sensed the tight muscle around his throbbing length relax and before long, he was pounding into the guard with a deliberate pace. Thranduil never released his grip on Lúthon. Slowly the king increased the force of his thrusts as well as his pace, making Lúthon’s bare cheeks shake with every invasion. Thranduil grunted loudly and before either realised, the king had already climaxed deep within, shuddering as he emptied himself. Lúthon kept moaning, eager for his own release, hoping he would get help.

Suddenly Thranduil removed his hand from around his rock hard shaft, slipped his own dripping flesh from Lúthon’s tight entrance and proceeded with quickly making himself decent again. He said nothing, and while Lúthon was out of breath, his groin throbbing for more, his king had already moved to walk away from him.

“You were right… we cannot always have what we desire,” he said with an evident smirk on his lips.

Lúthon remained in the pantry a little longer. For a moment he considered relieving himself, but decided not to, as he reached behind him to feel his buttered hole wide open from the invasion he had experienced by his king. He longed for the king to do that to him again, even though he realised that because that was his first experience, he would not be able to handle Thranduil’s impressive length again any time soon. Yet his stomach did somersaults and an unsatisfied feeling washed over him. Damn Thranduil’s arrogance.

*** 

In the days that followed, Lúthon did not see Thranduil, much to his disappointment. He had developed a soft spot for the king, in a way he realised perhaps not many others ever had. Whenever their paths did cross, however, Lúthon made sure he would pretend to be indifferent to the king’s presence and amicably hung around with other male elves in his circle of friends. One elf specifically, received more than just friendly attention, which could have easily been perceived as flirtatious behaviour. 

Thranduil was not immune to Lúthon’s actions and flared his nostrils in anger. He did, however, not act on his displeased demeanour, that was clearly brought on by the purest of jealousies, but vowed to himself that he was not yet done with Lúthon’s feigned promiscuous behaviour. 

Lúthon secretly hoped Thranduil would single him out again, sooner or later and that a sense of jealousy would somehow draw him close once more. He did not want the king to publicly cause a scene though. He had correctly assessed Thranduil to be discreet, as he noticed him walk away from the space where Lúthon and his friends were having a good time. His posture screamed a certain anger, as his stiff shoulders were oozing malcontent. Lúthon grinned silently. It seemed he was already getting the attention he wanted the king to give him. Now all he needed to think of was a way to get close. Closer than just standing outside his chambers and guarding his well-being. He briefly closed his eyes. He longed for Thranduil to be intimate with him again, though somewhat unsatisfying their previous encounter had been.

*** 

Lúthon stood outside of the king’s chambers. Every little sound that came from inside, made him be more alert. He half expected Thranduil to come bursting outside and order him to enter and task him with something along the lines of pleasure that required relief. Lúthon regretted teasing the king the way he had, leaving him hanging, when his orders had been clear. Thranduil however, had done the same to him and so Lúthon considered them even. 

Suddenly loud crashing noises came from inside the royal chambers, as though a skirmish was occurring behind the doors he was guarding. Lúthon and the other guard did not wait and burst into the chambers, only to find Thranduil fighting off an intruder. Lúthon gawked at the king for a moment, in complete awe of his melee skills, evidently showing both guards that he did not really need any protection. The intruder found it difficult to fight off the king and proceeded by running towards the large window overlooking the gardens. He leaped out and a loud scream below told them the culprit had in fact jumped to his death.

Lúthon had frozen to his spot, while the other guard approached the king to ensure he was unharmed. Thranduil had sustained only a small cut to the cheek and a very superficial injury to his pectorals. His tunic had managed to take most of the attack. 

“I will fetch the healers,” the other guard said.

“And what… disturb their well-deserved sleep over a few little cuts?” Thranduil raised his voice in anger.

“There is no need… I am perfectly fine… resume your position outside my door… Lúthon will remain here with me,” he quickly added. Lúthon looked up at the king. There was anger in his eyes, yet a certain need for comfort was also there.

When the other guard was out of sight, Thranduil let himself drop on one of the large chairs in the ante-chamber. The decanter of wine that stood on the table, suddenly got his attention and without bothering with a glass, he brought the opening of the decanter to his lips and took a few large swigs. He inelegantly wiped his lips with the back of his hand, before letting himself lean back, letting out a loud sigh, before closing his eyes.

“I had thought the residents of Middle-Earth had grown tired with unsuccessful attempts on my life… I see I have been mistaken,” he sighed again.

“The last attempt was only 150 years ago,” his face remained emotionless.

Lúthon wanted to speak, but decided against it and positioned himself by the door like he had done outside in the hallway. The king did not move, weary with the events that had just transpired. He clearly wanted to be left alone.

Only little time had passed, before Thranduil opened his eyes and scanned the ante-chamber, only to find Lúthon standing by the door. The guard looked at his king. He was concerned, but that is not how Thranduil perceived his gaze.

“Is there something you want from me?” Thranduil asked in a tone that conveyed a hint of irritancy.

Lúthon was confused.

“You requested me to stay,” Lúthon answered truthfully, wondering what he had done wrong.

Thranduil stood and approached him, bringing his face close to the young guard’s.

“I have requested you to stay, because I want you to take responsibility for something you have done,” Thranduil hissed at him, making Lúthon swallow hard.

“I am truly sorry, my Lord. I know not of what you speak, but I do apologise,” Lúthon offered, not entirely certain if the apology was warranted.

“You… my dearest Lúthon…” the king whispered. Lúthon widened his eyes because of the way Thranduil was addressing him.

“… you are responsible… for giving me back my libido,” Thranduil spoke softly, taking in Lúthon’s scent from his close proximity.

“It seems only fair that we put that libido to good use… don’t you think?” Thranduil gritted his teeth as he grabbed hold of Lúthon’s arm and hurled him towards the table. Lúthon was barely able to keep himself upright and before he realised, Thranduil had him pinned against the table, bent over and face down, tugging at the bindings of his leggings. On the one hand, the young guard wanted nothing more for the king to take him right there and then, but something deep down stopped him. He pushed himself up, turned and pushed Thranduil away from him hard, leaving the king in shock at what had just happened.

“I’m not a _whore!_ ” Lúthon shouted angrily, fire in his eyes. 

“Indeed you are not,” the king suddenly spoke with a softened tone. What followed came quite unexpectedly to Lúthon. Thranduil undid his belt, letting the knife attached to it drop to the floor and his tunic flow freely. He then lifted Lúthon by his waist, so his face towered over the king’s. Instinctively Lúthon wrapped his legs around Thranduil’s waist, which made the king smile, as he had hoped that was going to be the response to his actions.

Thranduil walked towards the sleeping area, making Lúthon tingle all over at the prospect of what potentially lay ahead.

It was immediately clear that the king was burning for him, as clothes dropped to the floor surrounding the bed and within moments, both were naked. Thranduil smirked as he regarded Lúthon. The guard felt somewhat embarrassed at his already hardened state.

“I see… I’m not alone in this game… am I?” he smirked again, as he let his fingers play with his own erection for a moment. Lúthon felt bold all of a sudden, as he slightly parted his thighs, letting Thranduil know what it was he wanted.

“Yes…” was all the king said.

He crawled onto the bed and on all fours moved towards Lúthon, who trembled, concerned that Thranduil would tease him again, leaving him unsatisfied once more. He wasn’t too sure that is what he wanted, but he found it difficult to resist his king.

Thranduil wasted no time. He brought his slender fingers to his mouth, collected some of his saliva on the tips of them and brought them to Lúthon’s lightly twitching entrance. 

As Thranduil positioned himself, all Lúthon could do was gaze at the intense expression on his lover’s face. He found it tremendously enticing. 

Slowly the king’s shaft pushed against his tight hole, exercising pressure that would soon make the muscle give way. As it did, Lúthon gasped, making Thranduil smile mischievously. Before long, the king’s entire shaft had disappeared out of sight, making them both groan loudly. Then the king moved. Slowly at first, but as he found Lúthon’s anal cavity relax, he pushed into him harder and faster. He was mindful of his submissive lover at first, but as lust took over, his posture became more dominating than before. Almost ruthlessly he thrust into Lúthon, who slightly grimaced at the repeated invasion of Thranduil’s impressive length. He wasn’t really in pain, but rather the mix of pain and ecstasy made him want the king to take him even harder and faster. Lúthon had not said anything, but could not refrain from uttering just one single word.

“More…” to which Thranduil responded instantly, shutting him up immediately.

Lúthon reached for his own erection, determined to reach his high, one that Thranduil had denied him before. The king slapped away his hand.

“Oh no you don’t,” was all he said. Lúthon was angry. He was enjoying this so much, but he would be damned to go without an orgasm again. To his surprise, it was Thranduil who had reached for his erection instead and while pounding into him hard, he moved the skin on Lúthon’s shaft up and down roughly.

Thranduil was no longer playing a game, but had every intention of making them both climax. Lúthon suddenly understood. The king had grown fond of him. And he had developed a fondness for the king in return.

His thoughts were rudely interrupted, as he felt his abdominal muscles contract and shortly after, white liquid erupted from the reddened tip of his shaft, as the hard flesh pulsated in Thranduil’s grip. Lúthon grunted with satisfaction, while he was still being invaded repeatedly. During his own climax, Lúthon felt his sphincter contract as well, effectively massaging Thranduil even more so. It didn’t take much more for him to release himself again deep within his tight lover. Lúthon could feel Thranduil shudder with his intense high. He smiled. He was responsible for doing that to his king. 

Both had their eyes closed, trying desperately to take in the much coveted air their longs evidently needed. As their breathing calmed, Thranduil collapsed onto Lúthon, while his hard flesh was still buried deep within. It was Thranduil who grinned and spoke first.

“We cannot always have what we desire… _just sometimes…_ ”

***


End file.
